


Settle Down, It's Just A Story

by LeafStitch



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rocky Horror Picture Show, Fairy Tale Elements, Fluff, God Tier Dream Nonsense, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Inspired by Wicked, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, The Princess Bride References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26297035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeafStitch/pseuds/LeafStitch
Summary: Dirk wondered how he got into this situation.Blindfolded, hands bound, knife at his neck, and a man dressed all in black seemingly intent on kidnapping him from the people who kidnapped him first. He did not know how his life could have gotten so weird. They kidnapped him because he was engaged to the prince, but he can't even remember the engagement.It's very real, but there's no way this is actually happening. Right?
Relationships: Jake English/Dirk Strider
Kudos: 25





	1. "It's got fencing, fighting, torture..." "Doesn't sound too bad. I'll try to stay awake."

Dirk was raised on a small ranch in the country of Florin by his older brothers. His favorite pastimes were taking care of the horses, and tormenting the farm boy who worked there. His name was Jake, but Dirk never called him that.

Ain’t that just a great beginning?

Dirk always took great pleasure in bossing Jake around. Tall, handsome Jake, with the brilliant smile. Not that Dirk was paying attention.

“Farm boy.” 

Dirk had just returned from a ride. He thought himself at least somewhat fair, golden hair and eyes to match, freckles dotting his face. He hitched his horse to the post and stood up straight, trying to make himself more stern and intimidating. Seemingly, Jake looked up from where he was forking hay into a trough. In reality, he had already been looking.

“Yes?” 

Dirk’s voice caught in his throat. He didn’t know why.

“Polish my saddle until it shines,” he said, regaining his haughty composure, “I want to be able to see my face in it by morning.”

Jake never complained. He never protested or told Dirk to do it instead. He leaned against his pitchfork, and spoke the same three words he always did when Dirk gave him an order. 

"As you wish." It was all he’d say when ordered around.

“Farm boy, get some water from the well.” The light caught on Jake’s hair. There was plenty of water in the jugs, and both of them knew this.

“As you wish.”

“Farm boy, muck out this stable.” The way Jake leaned against the broom. The stable was already spotless.

“As you wish."

“Farm boy,” Dirk called, as Jake walked into the kitchen. It was a lovely spring day. Jake looked at him, expression soft. Dirk’s breath caught in his chest; he glanced around quickly for something to order Jake to do. There was nothing. Nothing but a jug, hanging on a hook above his head, easily in reach. “Fetch… me that pitcher?” It wasn’t an order.

Jake stepped forward, into Dirk’s space, holding his gaze as he reached up and grabbed the jug. He took it down, and pressed it into Dirk’s hands.

“As you wish.”

It was at that moment that Dirk realized; whenever Jake said, “As you wish,” what he really meant was, “I love you.” And after much thinking, Dirk realized something more. He loved Jake just as much.

Their romance blossomed, the spring turned warm and to summer and to a year and further still. But it could not all be perfect springs and summers. Eventually, Jake left. He was to set out in the morning, hoping to find his fortune upon the seas. 

“Do you really have to leave?” Dirk asked, the eve of Jake’s departure.

“I’m sorry,” said Jake, holding him close, “Don’t fret, though. I’ll find my fortune and bring it back to you. And we can finally leave this farm and all of your brothers’ teasing.” He brushed a tear from Dirk’s cheek. “What is it?”

“I’m worried I’ll never see you again.”

“You will. I’ll return within the year. You won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.” He kissed Dirk, softly. “You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

He did not return. Five years passed.

* * *

Dirk wondered how he got in this situation. He wondered, really, where his life went wrong. Was it when Jake left? No, not exactly. 

Jake left and promised to be back within the year. It was only when a letter arrived, informing Dirk that Jake’s ship had been attacked by the Dread Pirate English, that things had gone wrong. English never took captives. Dirk was inconsolable. He didn’t sleep, he barely ate, he rarely left his room. Day by day, his brothers convinced him to get out, to see the sun, to get some rest, but he never got over the loss. Five years passed in agonizing monotony. It would likely be the rest of his life. 

At the moment, however, he was sitting on a stump with a knife to his neck, blindfolded and bound, waiting for a man who had been following his captors to arrive. His captors, who had recognized him as Prince Caliborn’s betrothed and kidnapped him. They planned to kill him on the border of Guilder, Florin’s most sworn enemy. Such a thing would surely be an act of war. The ship started following them, a small thing with no identifiable markers. It didn’t even have a name. The man on the ship, masked and clad all in black, had followed behind, climbing the rope up the Cliffs of Insanity (“So named,” remarked his captor, a stout woman named Jane, “because anyone would be insane to try and climb them without proper equipment!”) after their party. Jane cut the rope once they reached the top, but left her swordsman, Roxy, to guard. Just in case, she’d said.

She’d left Calliope, a giant of a woman with a shock of white hair, further on to ambush him with her strength, in case the man in black managed to best Roxy. And she’d taken Dirk further into the fields, settling under a large tree. Then she blindfolded him, and set out a table. 

And now, he was waiting.

“Hm,” Jane sniffed, after some time. She turned to Dirk. “It seems your savior has gotten this far. He won’t be able to get past me, however. Foolish of him.” She sighed, and then chuckled. “I hate to say it, Highness, but the chances of you getting out of this whole situation alive have been fully diminished.” 

The man in black approached the table. 

“Don’t get any closer,” Jane warned, pressing the blade harder against Dirk. He felt the sting of broken skin and a drop of blood trace his neck, but did not make a sound. “Or he’ll get it.”

“I won’t be able to convince you, will I?” the man in black said.

“Not a chance,” said Jane, “Now. Sit. Have a drink with me.”

Dirk did not see whatever antics they got into. The man in black proposed drugging one of their drinks. If he drank the drugged drink, he’d fall unconscious and Jane would get away with Dirk. If Jane drank the drugged drink, she’d fall unconscious and Dirk would have a new captor. He didn’t know which option he preferred. Jane distracted the man. He heard the rustle of cloth, and the man give a toast. Jane started to laugh.

“I can’t believe you fell for it! You’re doomed! And so is his Highness here! While you weren’t looking, I switched our drinks!” Her laugh turned into a cackle and abruptly paused. The knife fell away. So did Jane. 

Dirk did not expect the day to be so bright, when the man in black removed his blindfold. He could tell nearly nothing about him, other than his strong jawline and green eyes. He would not get his hopes up. 

“Come on now, up,” said the man, untying Dirk’s hands and pulling him roughly to his feet, “The prince’s forces will be hot on our tail, we best not dawdle.”

“And what are  _ you _ going to do with me?” Dirk sneered, stumbling as the man began to briskly walk with Dirk tugged behind, “Kill me and leave me at the Guilder border like those wannabe assassins did? Seems like a lot of trouble to go through for the same damn result. Maybe a little glory.” The man said nothing, pulling him through the meadow and to the top of a hill. All the while, Dirk continued to berate him. “It won’t do any good! Killing me will only set off war. But I suppose that’s what you want, isn’t it, war and destruction. It’s what pirates want, isn’t it? You certainly look like a pirate.”

The man stopped, turning around and looking at Dirk sharply.

“That’s right,  _ Highness,”  _ he said, hand still tight around Dirk’s wrist, “I am a pirate. The Dread Pirate English.” Dirk felt ice freeze his heart in fear, and then melt with the white-hot rage inside him. “So perhaps you’ll think twice about insulting me.”

“Oh, I’ve heard _all_ about _you,_ you’re the one who attacks sailing ships and kills the merchants on board,” Dirk said, pulling his hand out of English’s grip; English held tight, “And once my fiance catches you - like you said, he following close behind us - he’ll have you hanged.”

“Tell me, Highness, when you discovered that your first beloved died, how long did you wait to get engaged? A week? A month?” Shocked, Dirk took a step back, pulling his hand away again. English let him. He looked at English with wide eyes, heart hammering.

“How  _ dare  _ you,” he said, voice low and getting louder, “How  _ dare _ you! I  _ died  _ that day! Do you think I  _ want  _ to be engaged to this shitstain prince? Do you think I had a fucking  _ choice?”  _ He crossed his arms, glaring at English. “I would feel  _ nothing  _ if you died. Make it easier for the archers. Just keel over, why don’t you!”

With that, Dirk stormed forward, shoving English as hard as he could. The pirate stumbled back, back, and disappeared down the hill. As he rolled, he called back, “As… you… wish!” 

Horror took Dirk’s heart again. Horror and relief. 

“Jake,” he breathed, looking over and seeing Prince Caliborn’s forces on the horizon, “You’d better not be fucking dead.” And he threw himself down the hill after him.

The world dissolved into a shitty transition effect in a fourth-grader’s first Powerpoint. Green and blue swirling around, around, around, as he rolled down the hill. Hay in his mouth, dirt on his riding clothes, sticks in his hair. A wild fuckin’ headache to boot. He reached the bottom of the hill, head spinning, and stumbled over to where Jake lay. His mask had come down during the fall, revealing dark hair tousled the same way Dirk’s was. Dirk fell to his knees beside him, taking Jake’s face in his hands and kissing him, over and over again.

“Yes, yes- ack--” Jake said, wriggling, “Let me up now, love, I can’t exactly move.” Dirk pulled back, sheepish, grinning at him. Jake sat up, and tugged him in for another peck. “There we go.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Dirk asked, helping Jake up and hugging him. Jake held him close, brushing the twigs from Dirk’s hair.

“Well, wouldn’t that ruin the fun?” 

The fun was going to be ruined, either way. At the top of the hill, Prince Caliborn’s forces arrived. At their head was the prince himself, rosy-cheeked and bad of attitude. 

“You!” Prince Caliborn called, “Surrender!”

“You’re surrendering?” Jake called back. He gave a small bow. “Then I accept.” 

“No!” said Caliborn, “You need to surrender to me! Hand over my fiance and you will not be harmed.” 

“I don’t think so,” said Jake. The archers drew their arrows. Dirk stood in front of Jake, shielding him. “Ha! Try to shoot at me, and you’ll just hit your betrothed! You wouldn’t  _ dare.”  _ Jake chuckled, leaning in to murmur in Dirk’s ear. “Stay behind me. I’m going to lead us towards the fire swamp.”

“The fucking  _ what?”  _ Dirk hissed, but Jake was already leading the way, “Jake, where going  _ where?”  _

“The fire swamp! See, just ahead.” And onward they traversed. Once the prince’s forces were out of sight, Jake relaxed. “Alright. Phew. What a piece of work he is.”

“Fuckin’ tell me about it. I barely even know how we got engaged.” 

...Huh. Dirk couldn’t remember getting engaged to Caliborn. They continued to walk. Dirk heard a popping noise, and a gout of flame burst up from the ground. He threw an arm out, catching Jake’s chest.

“Ah! So that’s why they call it the fire swamp!” Jake said, delighted, “I was wondering when that would come up!” Dirk had to pause, again.

“Hold on. Wait. You know why it’s called the fire swamp, it’s because there’s fire, but you didn’t know  _ how  _ the fire appeared? You didn’t do any research about it or anything?”

“Well--” Jake rubbed the back of his neck, briefly… breaking character? “There isn’t exactly much time to read on- on the high seas, now, is there?”

“I just- I feel like this is something we’d  _ know  _ already.” Dirk pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make sense of this. “It’s called the  _ fire  _ swamp, Jake, c’mon.”

_ “Diiiirk,  _ I wasn’t exactly  _ studyiiiiing,”  _ Jake whines, “I was thinking more about rescuing you! You know, be the big dramatic hero and save you and then you wake up and think it was a wonderfully poetic dream.”

“What?” 

Jake flushed. Caught in the trap. Suddenly, the trees looked more like cardboard, the vines like yarn. Jake had been in all black a moment ago, but now he was in a t-shirt and shorts. Dirk looked down; he was also in his normal clothes. 

“Uh. You got me?” Jake said, like it was a question, “Oh, Dirk, come on. It’s the Princess Bride! Adventure! Fun! Action! Romance!”

“Why did you make Roxy and Callie Inigo and Fezzik, though? Why not, like, Dave and Karkat?”

“They were going to be Miracle Max and Valerie! It would have been a riot!” Jake groaned, leaning against a shitty cardboard tree. “Ugh, I was going to  _ save you,  _ it would have been  _ excellent.”  _

“That’s- that’s sweet and all, but- like, what?” Dirk was still struggling to understand this. It was still fucking baffling. 

“Well, I think--” Jake said, and then he snapped his fingers and blinked out of existence. Out of Dirk’s dream, so it seemed. The Jake-shaped space he left behind started to suck the scenery in like a rip in spacetime. 

Yeah. Alright. This might as well happen. 

Dirk allowed himself to get sucked into the space, and woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jake english dream powers time
> 
> well, i said id be working on something. so, here's my silly thing. idk how many things im gonna cover and how many, like, movies/shows/books i can apply these two to but ive got like 4 more in mind. also i just started classes on ancient greek myth and also dante's inferno and also shakespeare? so dont...... be surprised if something like that shows up in collected documentation. anyway, i hope you enjoyed! as always, kudos and comments are appreciated! i'll see yall later <3
> 
> all chapter titles are taken from the source material ;)


	2. Every so often we long to steal / to the land of what-might-have been /

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That foreign exchange prince, Jake or whatever his name is, has been dancing with Dirk's roommate all night. Dirk wouldn't call himself sick with envy. He's certainly green, though.

Rose has convinced him to go to this party, practically begged him, and Dirk is hating every second of it. Ever since he got to this school (by his own merit, thank you very much), everyone has stared at him, gawked, pointed, laughed, made fun of him, his roommate included. Rose, on the other hand, demure and sitting pretty in her wheeled chair, was the subject of ever so many praises. How could she ever be related to someone so atrocious as Dirk.

The party is being thrown by that exchange student prince from out west, Jake, or whatever his name was. Dirk can see him now, across the way and dancing with Jane, Dirk's flouncing princess of a roomie. It's not like Dirk doesn't have any status, he's technically next in line to be Duke of Munchkinland. He won't _get_ that position, sure, but as the eldest he could be.

Rose is now dancing - well, being guided, moreso - with the young man who fucking embarrassed Dirk at that poetry conference. Claiming to be childhood playmates. Dirk didn’t remember him, but he remembered Dirk. Hard to forget, he said, since Dirk has blue skin and all.

Blue?

No, no, it’s green. It’s green, right? He checks his hands. Still green. Still a green-bean-looking freak. No one was going to dance with him, anyway. 

Everyone here is dressed in party dresses and fun, snazzy suits. Dirk doesn’t exactly have that opportunity. He’s dressed in a simple outfit of black pants and a black button down shirt; matches his dark hair, so said Mother. As if Mother really was trying to do anything for him, he always knew Rose was the preferred child. He supposes that Dave, youngest of their familial troupe, would have had more of Mother’s attention, too, if he hadn’t been sent to boarding school as soon as Father died. Mother’s the reason Dirk only has this little ensemble, anyway. 

Jane is in a blue chiffon number to match her eyes. Jake has an emerald green waistcoat that complements his warm complexion. Even Rose, your dear, sweet, devout little sister, has a pretty dress from Mother. And she has the shoes. Mother learned glassblowing from a traveler that stayed in the house when Dirk was a toddler, and those shoes were her going-away gift. Dirk didn’t get a gift. He… doesn’t know how hurt he is anymore.

Jane tried to give him a hat this morning. Said it would make him look smart. He holds it in his hands now, tightly, not getting up to dance. Just. Fuck no. Dirk watches as Jane leans up and whispers something in Jake’s ear; Jake laughs, and then looks. Looks directly at Dirk.

Dirk blushes, and it’s one of the things he hates about himself. He can’t be normal and blush in a way that makes his skin just darken or flush, no. No, he has to turn some horrible combination color, green and red to make it look like he has more of a condition than he already does. Jake is approaching him. Fuck. Oh, shit.

Jake waltzes up to Dirk, giving him that confident, even cocky, grin and stopping just a few feet ahead.

“Been a bit of a wallflower, eh?” These are the first words Jake speaks to him. Dirk hopes to Rose’s unnamed god that those are the _only_ words Jake speaks to him. He turns and starts to leave, and Jake catches his hand. “Hey there, dish, where are you headed?”

“Fuck off,” Dirk mutters, yanking his hand away, “You’re just here to embarrass me.”

“Whyever would I do that?” Jake asks, and Dirk turns to face him. He’s got this insufferable look on his face like he’s genuinely hurt. Dirk has to hold back a snarl.

“It’s what everyone else fucking does. Ask out the green guy as a dare. Or a bet. You’re getting money out of this.” Jake looks confused. Dirk can’t fucking stand it. He storms out and doesn’t look back.

Jane gets back to their room late. Dirk is deep in a book, but hasn’t changed out of his party clothes. She sits delicately on her bed, posture proper.

“...He was trying to start up conversation, you know.” Dirk huddles into his book further. “He was rather put out that you didn’t want to dance.”

“Did you put him up to it?” he asks, glancing up for a half second, “I’d match his vest quite well.”

“I mean it, Dirk. He was.” Jane floats across the room, perching on the edge of Dirk’s bed. “What is it you’re reading?” He looks up at her again, a finger marking his place in the book.

“Life Sciences homework.” It’s the first time Jane has shown any interest in Dirk’s life. “The chapter is on ear morphology between humans and elves.”

“Ooh, is that the class with the old Goat professor? I’ve never met an Animal before.” Jane leans forward, and Dirk leans back.

“He’s a very intelligent man. I doubt you’ll be able to meet one soon, though. Especially since our dearest, darling Wizard seems so intent on rooting out anything he doesn’t understand.” He rolls his eyes, huffing.

“Do you talk with him often?”

“...Yes.” This feels like a trap. But… Dirk starts to uncurl, anyway.

* * *

The Goat professor is taken away in the middle of class and is replaced by a human carrying a cage. There’s a lion cub in it. If it’s a lion or a Lion, Dirk doesn’t know, but when the new professor pulls out a comically large needle full of sedatives, he can’t sit back and let it happen. He grabs the cage before the professor can open the door and sprints from the room. He hears footsteps behind him and runs faster. As soon as he’s far enough out, he kneels down, releasing the shaking cub from the cage. It scampers off into the rain. Dirk can barely process the water on his skin before it stops. He looks up; an umbrella. An umbrella that Jake is holding.

A beat.

“Why?”

“You were running out into the rain, of course. And I couldn’t let that dastardly new professor follow you.”

* * *

It’s some four years later when they really meet again. Dirk pretends like he doesn’t know Jake, runs away, flees back to his apartment. Jake follows, a relentless hunter. He hasn’t seen Dirk in four years, of course he’s going to follow! They were friends, him, Dirk, Jane, Rose, John, the whole lot! But Dirk didn’t come back after his and Jane’s trip to the Emerald City, and Jane wouldn’t talk about it. She couldn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand why he left.

And now, in the Emerald City, they meet again. Jake’s on business. Dirk’s on the run. Like one is, as an insurgent, but that is beside the point. Dirk won’t talk about what happened on that day he disappeared either. It’s between him and Jane. Him, Jane, and the Wizard. Wonderful. 

Rumors have it that Jake was going to propose to Jane. High ranking college sweethearts always do wind up together, after all. So, if the people of Oz would call what he and Dirk were having an affair, so be it. They wouldn’t find out, of course. Not until the two of them had disappeared for good and the rumors started flying again. If they were dead, if they were alive, if they had run off after the house killed Rose and the nasty little girl inside melted Dirk. 

“Are we going with that story beat?” Dirk murmurs, kissing Jake’s cheek as they lay in Dirk’s shitty Emerald City apartment, “I can’t tell if we’re sticking to the book or the musical.”

“I think the book portions are much more your influence, love,” Jake says, “Many details in here that I was not aware of. I didn’t even know that time had passed between your grand escape and Dorothy’s arrival.”

“It’s not as clear in the musical.” Dirk yawns and stretches, catlike, before settling back down. "If we stick with book stuff, you're gonna die in a few chapters. Very tragically, as well. On Christmas Eve."

"Murder?"

"Assassination. Dorothy killing me would be manslaughter, though. The witch straight up melts in the book." He presses another kiss to Jake's temple. “You almost did flub an important detail, though.”

“Did I?”

He traces a green finger over Jake’s collarbone. “Almost made me blue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i've been on a bit of a wicked kick lately, so it seems. im about halfway through son of a witch now, but oh baby. those books are fuckin dense and heavy as hell. i infodumped to my brother about the differences between the book and the novel and it took an hour. read them! they're good! fucked up, but good! technically theres spoilers in this but like. if you dont already know the book/musical you will have forgotten by the time it rolls around so dont worry
> 
> theres not going to be a plot its just jake going "hey what if we were in this movie, that show, that book, this series" and dirk going "uhhhhhhhh ok" and its dreams. ive got like a list of things i want to cover (rocky horror, anastasia, princess bride again but different, etc) so thatll be fun. anyway! you know the drill, let me know what you thought! kudos and comments are always appreciated and make my day <3


	3. It's so dreamy / oh, fantasy free me! /

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirk is not supposed to be this tall, this tan, or this buff. It's hard to argue, though, when the mad scientist who created him is so very attractive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rocky horror au because i make the rules. not the whole plot because that would take too long, and neither i or jake english have that kind of attention span. jake can be a little evil. as a treat.

The first thing Dirk realizes when he comes to is that he is completely blindfolded. No, not blindfolded; there’s a hood covering his head. His limbs feel stiff, his head is foggy, and he can’t exactly move, even though he’s standing. Whatever’s covering him is soft, though, which is a bonus. Clothes? Maybe?

The hood is pulled off and Dirk winces at the bright light. He glances side to side, seeing who’s around. Roxy, in a glittery gold blazer and matching tophat, wearing a similarly glittering rainbow corset to his left. Rose, wearing a maid’s outfit and looking bored, to his right. Dave and Karkat, both wearing… labcoats? directly ahead, looking uncomfortable and confused. There are countless other people on an observation deck above him, all wearing party hats and sunglasses and suits, all watching him with rapt attention. It’s a lab, he realizes, as the gauze - it was gauze, he’s wrapped up like a shitty toilet paper mummy - is torn from his arms and legs. Rose grabs the gauze around his middle and lets him spin, around, around, around as it unwinds. Vision blurring, he catches sight of a tank stained rainbow, blond hair and a scowl, and a flash of delighted green eyes. The gauze is gone. He stops, dizzy, grabbing the edge of the tank to steady himself.

That’s when Dirk notices what’s weird about _him._ He’s taller than he should be by nearly a foot, totally ripped, and nicely tanned. He’s also almost entirely naked, save for the golden briefs holding up his now-substantial ass. Oh. Okay. He’s Rocky. A creation.

Shit, is he even really Dirk? Is he Brain Ghost Dirk right now? He glances around one more time, and catches sight of himself, gaunt and glaring, now standing beside Rose. The other Dirk drops his glare for half a second to wink. That’s Brain Ghost Dirk. Sure. Dream logic. All of this thinking is starting to make Dirk’s head ache. He’s Rocky, Rose is Magenta, the other Dirk is Riff-Raff, Roxy is Columbia, so that means--

“Oh, _Dirk!”_

Strutting out from behind the tank comes that flash of green eyes Dirk saw before. He walks, heels clicking on the tile, to Dirk’s side. Jake English is wearing black pumps, fishnets, a long sleeved lab coat, long rubber gloves, a string of overlarge pearls around his neck, bright red lipstick, and a delighted, mad gleam in his eye. Dirk doesn’t know if the proper thing to feel is intimidated or kind of turned on, and both doesn’t seem like the right reaction. He’ll stick to mildly intrigued, for now. 

Jake touches Dirk’s collarbone and lets his hand trace down nearly to the gold briefs. Slowly.

“Aren’t you just…” Jake sighs, taking his time to drink Dirk in, “a _sight.”_

DIRK: Yo, timeout.  
JAKE: Is something wrong?  
DIRK: Nah, I’m just wondering how much of the plot we’re going with this time.  
JAKE: Not much! I dont want you getting a crush on karkat or anything!  
JAKE: Do you like my outfit?  
DIRK: I’m just curious as to why you’re Frank-N-Furter.  
JAKE: Isnt it obvious? Look at this outfit!  
JAKE: Well. Youll see more of it later, i suppose.  
JAKE: ...And i wanted to be the villain this time. Its more fun.  
DIRK:  
DIRK: Yeah, makes sense.  
DIRK: Why am I also Riff-Raff?  
JAKE: Oh! The ghost is helping me out. Hes filling in for you while youre playing the hunk.  
JAKE: Unless thats something youd like me to remove? I can!  
DIRK: It’s fine.  
DIRK: Back to the scene?  
DIRK: You know it’s going to involve me running away, right?  
JAKE: Yes! Thats the fun part. ;)  


Intimidated and turned on it is.

Distantly, music plays. Dirk’s not going to sing, but he bolts all the same. Around Dave and Karkat, through the crowd of people, past Rose and Roxy and himself, Jake always just behind him. Running in heels must be difficult. Dirk finds himself to be surprisingly agile for someone who has only been alive for a few minutes. He circles the observation deck twice, winding up back at the tank and sitting on the edge. Behind him, Jake shoves people out of the way, snarling and tripping as he gets to the bottom of the ramp. He straightens himself up, dusting off his lab coat and waltzes up to the side of the tank, looking up at Dirk in disappointment. 

“Really?” he says, and Dirk notices that he’s wearing eyeshadow, too, “That’s no way to behave. Especially not on your first day out. We haven’t even gotten to your presents yet!”

Oh, shit, presents? Dirk may not have the most brainpower at the moment, but presents are always fun. Jake offers a hand and Dirk gets down, and over they go to a conveniently placed selection of barbells and weights that were definitely not there earlier. Jake hands him two weights and they feel like absolutely nothing in his hands. Pumping iron as if it’s supposed to weigh something. Jake seems impressed either way.

He’s practically hanging on Dirk, a hand on his bicep here, a not-so-subtle grope to his pec there, taking the weights away and leading him to the pull-up bar, guiding him by the hips over to a door. It’s possessive. It’s kinda hot. If Dirk didn’t know the movie by heart, he’d assume they’d be making out right about now. 

Of course, they have to do the stupid little scene with the delivery boy first. Down comes the deep freeze door, out rides… John? On a motorcycle? And he has a saxophone, because, why not. He does his little song, dances with Roxy, plays the saxophone, and makes Dirk feel, briefly, second best? It’s weird. He has only been alive for about half an hour, and he’s already insecure. Then Jake chases John back into the freezer with the icepick that happens to be in there and, to Dirk’s horror, kills him offscreen.

DIRK: Time out again.  
JAKE: Youve seen the movie! You know this happens!  
DIRK: And this isn’t about any weird, underlying hatred towards John?  
JAKE: No!!! Of course not!!!  
JAKE: My casting choices are top notch and you know it, mister.  
JAKE: >:0 !  
DIRK: My bad, then.  


Jake stalks back out of the freezer, drops the bloody icepick, and gazes at the horrified crowd. 

“Oh, come on. It _was_ a mercy killing.” He strips the gloves off and drops them to the side, sighing. Dirk feels like he should be backing away. Maybe hiding in his tank? That sounds pretty good. Before he can even get close, Jake’s hand closes around his wrist. Dirk turns back to face him. “Don’t give me that look.” The fear look? Yeah, Dirk’s giving it to him. “You know I had to. He would have made for such a plot inconvenience.” His hand alights on Dirk’s cheek, sweet. “You _are_ my favorite, though. You know that.” Yeah. Dirk knows that. His face heats up, just a little. 

The scene shifts, and it’s entirely because Jake forgot how they get from the lab to the wedding, Dirk can feel it. In the blink of an eye, all of the guests from the laboratory are flanking them like a mock procession, tossing rice and flower petals.

Jake has had a costume change, too. He’s lost the lab coat, revealing the glittering black corset and elbow length, fingerless leather gloves beneath. Dirk blinks, mouth dry. It’s a look, and Jake’s making it work. The garter belt and lingerie really tie it together. He holds out his arm for Dirk to take and struts down the aisle, blushing bride to Dirk’s very confused groom. Maybe. He’s not sure how well the metaphor works, really. Brain Ghost Dirk is playing Mendhelsson’s Wedding March on John’s saxophone. Roxy is mock-weeping, and Dave and Karkat look more confused than ever. 

Yeah. That’s fair.

An elaborate wedding bed is laid out just beyond the proscenium arch, making this whole thing feel like a play within a roleplayed dream. Playacting a romance? Playacting marriage? Roleplaying playacting a happy couple? There are too many layers for Dirk’s dreamed-dumb head to comprehend. 

Jake takes his hands, standing before him and smiling softly. There’s no priest or anything, just a stained glass window of Atlas holding up the world. Should Dirk kiss him? The crowd cheers, the curtains start to close, and Jake jumps up, legs around Dirk’s waist, arms around his neck, and kisses him. Surprised, Dirk holds his waist, and kisses back.

The curtains shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes i am just doing all the movies i like. yes i will continue to be doing this. im thinking anastasia next, and yes, it is because i think dirk would make a fun dmitri. please do not count on this having a plot because im 100% fucking around. hope you liked it! comments and kudos always make my day <3


End file.
